


Nyctophilia

by redpandawriter



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Body Horror, Crossover, Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Malkavian (Vampire: The Masquerade), Underage Drinking, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-04-04 09:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14016993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redpandawriter/pseuds/redpandawriter
Summary: But who prays for Satan? Who in the eighteen centuries has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner who needed it the most...Noctis, suffering the weight of the world he is destined to carry, makes a mistake he will live with well into the eternity of the night.[Updates monthly]





	1. Veni

**Author's Note:**

> If you've never heard of Vampire: The Masquerade series it's fine, you don't really need to know anything from that to understand this fic. Tags will be added as chapters are updated.

《 I don't know where you're going, but do you got room for one more troubled soul?》

**Friday - Early Evening**

The night he met her, it was some time after an argument with his father.

It was a bad day from morning, Prom was home sick with the flu so he missed classes, without him there Noctis didn't have anything to distract him from everyone staring and whispering behind his back. Gladio seemed very stressed for some reason and it felt to Noct that his shield was taking his frustrations out on him during training. 

Even Ignis was unusually moody that day, and not the coffee deprived moody either. So despite his confusion and curiosity, all the soreness and what would undoubtedly be painful bruises the next morning, he couldn't go to his apartment yet as he promised to join his father at dinner.

It was here, where the calm façade the prince took careful effort in to maintaining, began to crack.

To his father’s credit, the man wasn't doing anything except eat his dinner and attempt conversation with his son. To the outsider, it was a normal family dinner.

But that was the problem. Because it wasn't a ‘normal family dinner’. Being ‘normal’ didn't include the thought that your father was sending immigrant refugees as soldiers to die in a war that they were losing. That it didn't include a family heirloom that drained your life essence to power a wall. One that couldn't actually protect all of Lucis, just the innermost city, where only most of the rich and elite could afford to live. And it most definitely didn't include everyone pretending things were fine and ok when it was obvious they aren't. 

‘Normal’ is just a setting on a washer machine. People like him can't have ‘normal’.

Looking back on it, Noctis supposed that must have been why he found his way into that club. The thrill of being five years underage with a fake ID and sipping a bit of his choice of poison was probably the most believably ‘normal’ the prince had ever felt in years. Meeting her was just the cherry atop his drink.

She was a weird one, her skin was cold, but she was usually dressed so provocatively. Meeting her eyes had always felt like she saw through his own and into his soul, and she always insisted on calling him Jupiter. Noct couldn't understand with her fixation on the name, or what it meant, and she refused to tell him, always playing coy and flirting out of the question.

So he insisted on calling her Alice.

Her advice sounded like weirdly specific fortune cookies. Always vague and cryptic, but she made it sound nice and poetic. She carried a pink handgun, and smoked the shittiest brand of cigarettes he'd ever tried. Despite his better judgement, Noctis fell in love. Not with her, per se, but with the idea of her. This woman was dangerous, and a bad influence. 

Alice wasn't ‘normal’, and it made him feel _normal. ___

__And he wanted to keep feeling it. So he took the battery out his phone, tossed it into a microwave, and let her take the lead._ _

《I don’t know where I’m going, but I don’t think I’m coming home.》

Friday - Late Evening

She invited Noctis to her place, a dingy studio apartment, beckoned him to the bed and taught him all sorts of licentious things. It was the most fun he'd had for a long time, made all the better with Alice’s flowery teasing.

He was going to get so much shit for running off like this when he got back, but Noct couldn't bring himself to care, not when it felt so good inside her. This was something he never knew he needed, this wonderfully hedonistic rush of pleasure. The tangled knot of stress gently unraveled before her.

The prince thought they would have gone on all night, if someone hadn't decided to pay Alice a visit, and, if the look on her face meant anything, she didn't seem to pleased at the interruption of the unexpected company either.

Reluctantly, she removed herself from him, redressing to go shoo away the visitors. Noctis opted to throw a blanket over himself, still eager for her. Just as she was reaching for the knob, she tensed, and hesitated. It was only for a moment, and Noctis would have asked what was wrong, when he heard a click and felt the hot, piercing sensation of being filled with bullets.

Fire. His whole body felt like it was set aflame.   
And it hurt so much. 

Voices above him spoke. 

He couldn't make out the words. 

Didn't want to try. Just wanted to die.

Why wasn't he

Please

Make the pain stop

Stop it

Let him die

《And I said, I’ll check in tomorrow, I don’t wake up dead.》

A̷ ̕t̶͘ơ̶a͏͟s̡t̨ ̧̧t̶͝o͢ ̴͢͝t͏̨h͞e̡͘ ̛͠F̢͝a̢l̷̢l̢̛e͞n̕ ͠S̷o̵͜͞n̨͝, ̵̴ ̸K̸̷̢ing̶ of͞ L҉̶͘i͜g̕h͡t̕, ̧͘n͜͢o̴͏̧w̸ ̛a͏̧ C͡͠h̴į͟ld̛e̷̸ ͏o̢f̶͟͡ ̴͢D̢̧ar͏̕ķnȩ͟s͠s͏.͝

《This is the road to Ruin, and where starting at the End》

“Good evening,” someone began, a little ways off to his right. Noctis began to stir 

w͢h̕e͎̭͚̦n͓ ̣̝͉͢ḍ̘i͏̯d̯̠̺̩̰̭ ̠͉y̶̪ọ̟̲͢ụ̱̠̹̜̼̝ ̷̪̤̣̠̱ͅp̬̤̯̫a͍͓ͅs̗͕ṣ͖ ̣̥̻͇̟͙o̮̗̠̠̱̠u͍̙̣͔̥̥̰͞t̘

, he was on his knees, supported by whoever was behind him. His eyelids felt heavy, as he tried to lift them, but he managed to get them open. The someone, a man in an all black suit who stood at the front closest to the audience, continued. 

“My fellow kindred, apologies for disrupting any prior engagements you may have had this evening.”

The young prince kept his face forward, and examined his spot from where he kneel. He was up on a stage, the place looked to be a theatre, an old and well worn one at that. 

“Unfortunate that the affair that brings here tonight, is a troubling one.”

Unfortunate that the current showing only brought such a meagre audience number. There was plenty of open seating in the front row, but many chose to sit further away, or to be up in private booths.

“We are here tonight, because the laws that exist to bind and protect our society, have been broken.”

Figures, of course Noctis, the Crown Prince of Insomnia, would stumble into some secret society bullshit. More than enough of them existed within the walls.

“As Prince,

a̳͍͟ ͕̥̱̠͎͕͚͘p̼͕̞̯̠r͎ͅe̥̝ţẹ̯nd̘̖e͔͔̖͜r

I am within my rights to grant or deny the kindred of this city the privilege of Siring. Many of you have come to me seeking permission, and I have granted some of these requests. However, the sire of this childe was not denied permission, for it hadn't been sought at all. Sadly, this ill-begotten progeny, is none other than the beloved Prince of our country Lucis.”

The crowd broke into a collection of scandalized gasps and urgent whispers. It was too much, too sudden, and Noctis tried to shrink away from all the noise. Thankfully dying quickly as the ‘Prince’ kept on.

“He was found, shortly after his embrace, and his sire, dead upon our arrival. Further evaluation of the scene has revealed to us, that this was unplanned. Indeed, it appeared to us that the prince was an unlucky casualty in an attack set to kill one of our fellow kindred. She used the last remaining moments of her life to give him his second.”

More whispering, by less people, a little more contemplative. 

“Ordinarily, such a childe would be killed in accordance to our laws.”

A heavy tension settled over the room. Noctis shifted uncomfortably, the person behind tightened his grip on the prince. The man speaking seemed unaffected and continued. 

“Without a Sire, of which to properly guide and instruct him, he would be doomed to walk earth never knowing his place and the laws he must obey. Yet, such as things are, I have decided to let him live.”

Noctis was not comforted by the statement, and the tension seemed to share his sentiments. At the very least, the person behind let him go, and he puzzled at the lack of bruising on his skin, despite their firm grip.

“From here on, Noctis Lucis Caelum shall be instructed in our ways, and be granted the same rights. Never let it be said I am unsympathetic to the plights of our community. I thank you for attending these proceedings, and hope their significance has not been lost. Good evening.”

As his speech ended, the man in the all black suit turned to Noctis, and beckoned him to follow backstage.

Ma̧͎̖͍̟͇r̨̜͇͉y̝̩̠ ̺̘͎̮͖M̨̦̗̖̼̼͓̙a͍̬͕̮̦̟r̛̳̫̩͓̻y̨̘̬ ̧̣̰̞̲̞͖q̕u̪͢i̠̜̖̲̳͖̥̕t̢̙̥̩͎̙e̘̮ͅ ̼̠̫̖̰̺c̰̻̯̯̣͙ͅo̟̻̰̲̕n̸̞͕̰͇̜̭t̢̖̳ͅͅr̴͈a̟̰̯͉̖̙͙r̸͔y͎ͅ,̴͙̰

《◇》

 

“Your Sire- tragic, my apologies. But you see, there is a strict code of conduct that all of us must… adhere to if we are to survive.” the “Prince",

H̶̜̮̮o҉w̵̯̦͖̫͖̤͇ ̭̜̳̜͎ḍ͔͈o̩̝͓̯̯͓̭e͕̳͉̫̯̖̭s҉̝̮̬̖̫ ͇̹̫̻̜̻͇y̘̦ͅͅo̻ͅu̴̠͚͚̘̝͈r̨̘̱̗̭̻ ̱̳͉͈ͅg͏̪̩̫͎a͚̭͔r̜̳̯͈͝d̡̙͙e̘̦̠n̯͍̠̘̗̕ ̲̖͚̭̳̥g̸̝͇̹̤ṛ̪͙̗o͇̪̳̟̦͞ͅͅw̪͎̣͎͖̼͟ͅ?̣̳̝

 

Sebastian LaCroix, as he introduced himself, “When someone, anyone, breaks these laws, they undermine the well-worn fabric of our centuries-old society. As I'm certain that someone of your, status, no doubt will understand my predicament, as allowing you to live will make me directly responsible for your behavior.

W̭̬̳̦̫͚͔i̡ͅt͚̻̗̗̹̠͓h͉̣̬̬̳̯͜ͅ ̦̹̠̗͔̯s͙i̖̭͇l̮̹̤v̱̼̼̲e̥̱̪͎͔͟r̳͢ͅ ̰̜̣͞b̨͙͙̬̪̣e̺͚̼͟l̗̤l̦̯͎̳͙͝s̸̯̮̖̪ ̙͉̠͇̱̩a̫̦̳̠̗n̹͖͈d̗͖̖̺̥͉ c̖̱o̻̥͎̫̹c̥̹͈͔̙k͙͓̭͉͚̦l̖̰͓̼͓e̬̗̰̜͖̠͇ ͍͎̳͈̟͞sh̨̗e̜̪̗̼͙͢l̼̖̥̦l͎̺̱̪͠s̛̻̺͙

 

So, what I offer is not generosity, but an opportunity, to become more than whatever ill-woven fate set by your Sire. This is your trial, your second and only chance. Good evening.”

A̴̩̭̺̖̬͍͉n̙d̷ ̗͇̺̩̰͓̥p̴̰̯r̨̲̲͔͕͎̥e̜̲͖̞͇͝t͏̜͈̥t̰̭y̻̳̣̹̝ͅ ̮̼̱m̠̳͉̭̞̰͠a̭̮͕̗͈̳͠ͅi̡ḑ̻̪̮̖̤s̜͍̞̳̞̦ ̻͔̥̤͇a̧l͓̰͙̱͖̙l̨̲͈̣ ̘̯i̺̭̣̭̻̜n͓̫͠ ̢̠̭a ̤̗̼͉̩r̸̰͇̜oẉ̛͉̳̘.

 

《◇》

 

Noctis couldn't recall how he got back to his apartment, or why he chose to sleep on the couch. What he does recall, though, was dreaming of Alice laying next to him, their naked forms relaxing in bed. She seemed at peace as he cradled her in his arms, rubbing soothing circles into her cool skin. He had noticed her lips moving, muttering something he strained to hear.

“...st, Jupiter.”

“What?” he asked.

“...open your eyes.” She said, slowly rising off him, looming over him.

“Embrace the darkness, Jupiter,” Alice said, her own eyes empty sockets that began to drench him in blood, “And I will help you see.”

He looked down at his hands, seeing the veins start to turn black, cracking and bleeding a blood so dark it looked like ink, and glance back up-

Ignis was there, standing over him, trying to wake him.

《◇》

Sunday - Late Morning

“Where have you been, and why haven't you called?” Ignis asked, making his way around the room, picking up bits of stray trash from when Prom last visited. Noct didn't say anything, just stayed exactly as he was, and waited for Ignis to elaborate. At least until Iggy abruptly opened the curtains and nearly gave the prince a death by heart attack.

When Ignis had turned around, he opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, but hesitated when he caught sight of the terrified expression upon Noctis’s face. He frowned,“Noct,” he started carefully, “what happened yesterday?”

The question didn't even seem to register in the prince, who remained unusually still. His eyes wide as they stared directly at the sun, as if seeing it for the first time. The light made his skin look so pale it seemed almost translucent.

“Noct, are you all right?” Ignis asked, after a few beats of silence, inching closer and reaching out to him. When he moved so that his body blocked off the light in front his charge, Noct's gaze snapped towards his advisor, who flinched at the suddenness, “What is this day's name and number?”

Ignis blinked, “What..?”

The prince also blinked, and then gave him an exasperated look, “This day's name and number, do you know it?”

Ignis took a moment to process these words before responding, whilst Noctis impatiently waited for his advisor, “It’s Sunday,” he began, “you were gone all day yesterday, your father was worried sick when neither the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive could find trace of you.” Truth be told, it was very much like the prince had dropped off the face of the planet and Regis was very much panicked to near death.

It was Nocts turn to process these words, his expression pinched in thought. “Okay.” 

“‘Okay’?” The response sounded hollow to Ignis’s ears.

“Yes.” Noct answered confidently.

“Just, ‘okay’?”

“Did you turn off your ears? I said ‘okay’.” The prince was beginning to look irritated at his advisor’s insistence on this single word.

“‘Turn my..’? Erm..”

There was something very, very off about his charge, besides the odd phrasing there was also his oddly pale complexion and the way he stared at the sun. Ignis couldn’t guess what it might be, at least not yet, not until he had more info, and nothing was going to get done if he continued down this line of questioning. Right, remain patient, deep breath in, time for a change in his strategy, deep breath out.

“Noct, what did you do all day yesterday?”

Noctis frowned and tilted his head, seeming to be lost in thought, the air of innocence from the gesture surprised Ignis. He would never have guessed his normally apathetic charge could pull it off.

“I slept.” Noctis answered, after a few beats of contemplation, with an equally innocent smile.

There was something oddly infuriating about it, likely to do with Noct’s vague answers. “And where is it you have slept?”

The prince shook his head, smiling mischievously, “Can’t tell.”

Ignis frowned, “And why’s that?”

“Can’t tell,” Noct repeated, emphasising it by raising a finger to his lips.

“Well,” Ignis drawled, deciding to try something else, “you know you can trust me right?” he assures softly, “You can tell me anything, and if you don’t want anyone else to know, I won’t tell. I promise.”

“Nope,” his charge responded with an irritating cheeriness, “my secret is very shy, she always has to wear a mask.”

‘She always has to wear a mask’? Well, it’s a start.

“‘She’? Did you meet someone yesterday?” 

The innocent cheeriness morphs into a warm fondness, “Maybe.” 

There was his chance. “Don’t suppose I could meet her, do you?”

Ignis could have sworn what he said were fairly neutral, in both words and tone of voice, yet Noctis flinched back, eyes starring wide at him as if the advisor had slapped him. Then, without warning, his expression changed into one of anger.

“Get out.”

Ignis blinked, still processing the array of emotions he just witnessed in the span of a few seconds, “What..?”

“I said, ‘get out’.” He snapped, eyes narrowed dangerously. Ignis steeled himself.

“Not until you tell me, what happened to you yesterday.”

“No.”

“Noct, we have to know what happened, do you have any idea how worried we all were? We couldn’t find a single trace of you anywhere in the city.” Stay calm, deep breath in, deep breath out, pay the threatening air no mind, repeat. “Do you have any idea how worried everyone was?”

Noctis moved off the chair, standing right before Ignis. Just one effortless little action and it took a great deal of willpower to keep from stepping back in response. Who was this woman to make Noct so suddenly violent? Did they truly just meet yesterday, or had they known each other for a while? The advisor searched his charge’s eyes, hoping to find some kind of answer. 

The prince offered nothing, still glaring, and pointed to the door, “I won’t repeat a fourth time.”

Ignis opened his mouth once more, about to argue, but the unyielding glare made him close it in hesitation. His gaze lingered a moment longer before giving a formal bow with a quiet ‘as you wish’ and left the apartment.

The advisor couldn’t quite name the emotion he felt as he entered his car and drove to his own home. Everything felt a little surreal, almost as if he were dreaming, his body falling back to well established habit and moving mostly on autopilot. Not until Ignis found himself undressed and about to enter under the shower head that he noticed his hands were shaking and tears running down his cheeks.

Deep breath in, don’t pay the threatening air any mind, deep breath out.

Deep breath in, it was time for a change in strategy, deep breath out.

《◇》

It was simple plan, send a guard to pick up the prince and bring him to the Citadel. Of course as soon as Gladiolus had caught wind of the Noct’s reappearance, he stepped up to go pick him up and bring him to the Citadel. 

He was the brat’s Shield after all, it only made sense he’d do it.

It wasn’t a long drive, though Gladio usually hated driving, as cars weren’t really made with anyone over six feet in mind (especially not luxury cars, like the Star of Lucis he was currently driving), the past 24 hours on high alert had left the man with far too much anxiety. He kept snapping his gaze towards every shadow he spotted out the corner of his eye, it was stupid and ridiculous but he couldn’t bring himself to relax, not until he saw for himself that Noct was okay for himself.

It was weird though, to hear from Ignis that the prince was okay but decline to bring him in. Gladio would’ve expected the advisor to have called in the process of bringing in Noct, or at the very least sent a text to Cor. Even more worrying was the slight tremor in Iggy’s voice, almost like he’d been crying…

No, Ignis wasn’t the type to cry, not that Gladio could remember a time if the man had ever did. It could just be stress of the whole situation finally catching up to him, it may have only been about roughly a day and few hours since Noctis disappeared but anyone could see the frenzy the advisor worked himself into. If anyone needed a break it would be that guy, it’d also might explain why he’d want to hole up in his apartment, this was the second close call they’ve had with losing…

Gladio parked the car, turned off the ignition, and leaned back into the his seat. The engine made a strange ticking noise as it cooled. Or maybe that was just his imagination, the image of the car blowing up with him in it sprung to mind to which he growled at himself and shook from his head.

He got off the car, and marched through the parking complex to the apartment building. Another image of him horrifically dying while riding up the elevator came to mind and he almost punched a wall. Where the hell were these morbid thoughts suddenly coming from? Was it stress? It had to be stress right?

Gladio came to a stop before the Noct’s door. He took a deep breath to clear his mind and then knocked on the door. Not a half second later the door opened to reveal a very pissed member of royalty. For a second, at least, cause his expression shifted the instant he made eye contact with Gladio, to something considerably less hostile. It still didn’t seem friendly, but it was clear that whatever had the princess’s panties in a bunch wasn’t aimed at him.

Noctis took a step back, moving out the way to invite him in. Gladio took the invitation. “So,” the shield began, as they made their way to the living room, “gonna let any of us know where the hell you’ve been?”

The prince had the guts to look annoyed of all things and Gladio was very tempted to punch a wall again. It was as if all their worrying and anxiety was all for naught if this was his future King’s attitude to what was a genuine crisis that had made their current King distraught enough to cancel his plans for the day to dedicate his effort into finding his son. Was Noctis even aware-

“He wouldn’t understand.” 

Gladio blinked, right they’re having a two way conversation he should be paying attention lest he look like a hypocrite. “Who wouldn’t understand?”

Noctis shifted a bit, looking anywhere that wasn’t his Shield before giving up after a few seconds. “He only knows the fear, he doesn’t know the pain. He wanted to meet her, but she- he wouldn’t understand.” He finishes, wringing his hands together.

Well that wasn’t confusing as fuck all. Why the sudden crypticness, since when did Noctis ever talk like this?

“Noct,” he starts, firmly, “what happened yesterday?”

“It can’t be a secret if I tell you, I have to keep the mask on, just like her.”

Oh for- is he seriously doing this?!

Gladio frowns and crosses his arms with a sigh, “And who is ‘she’?” 

“A-” Noctis’s eyes widen, watering up as he chokes out, “A corpse.”

The shield blinks, taking a second to process those two words. 

 

And then it clicked. A friend of Noct’s had just died, he must have spent most of yesterday dealing with the worst of it, and still wasn’t ready to talk about it if Ignis was any indication, the ‘he’ must have been referring to Iggy. Kid was still be in shock, would explain the weird way of talking. He probably only fessed up because he must have realized that no one was going to stop asking him and decided to just get it over with… 

Gladio’s expression softened.

It was his responsibility to protect Noct. He was the brat’s shield after all, it only made sense he’d do it.

《◇》

Sunday - Noon

It was strange, being at the Citadel as he was. Stranger still were the voices that spoke to him, Noct knew that wasn’t a good sign but they weren’t particularly loud or even always coherent. Most of the time they were just background noise, and when Noctis could make out what they were saying he never felt alarmed. Most of it was fairly cryptic anyway, but on the occasion he could discern their true meaning it was actually fairly helpful.

Although it did lend to his newfound speech pattern. His thoughts didn’t quite seem to match the words coming out his mouth. Despite his best efforts, Noct didn’t have as much sway over his words anymore, everything was always phrased so oddly, with some of what he said sometimes seeming to come out of nowhere and would always sound either needlessly foreboding or like a joke in poor taste. Like a weird fortune cookie.

In between his talks with Gladio and Ignis, the prince slowly began to recall what happened to him the nights before. A cheerful demon, as the voices called him, who called himself Smiling Jack referred to the secret vampire society as ‘The Masquerade’ and helped explain some of the laws governing it. Such as if he ‘broke The Masquerade’ and revealed the existence of vampires to the human population, there would be hell to pay.

“So do whatever it takes to keep the beast down,” the Smiling Demon told him, “I don’t care what you gotta do to get it. Just so long as you don’t give in, none us will have to come after you. So hold on to every bit of humanity within you, ‘cause trust me, it ain’t worth giving in to that thing inside you.”

It hurt a bit to lie to Gladio and Ignis but the thought of something happening to them because of a mistake or slip up by Noctis, who didn’t hold much control over the situation at the moment, was a painful thought he wanted to avoid making a reality. He also just wasn’t very sure how to tell the two people who dedicated themselves to keeping his life safe that he died and is now an undead neonate at the mercy of Kindred so much more powerful than probably his father.

There was also the odd feelings of loss over his dead sire. Maybe it was a vampire thing, that would explain why despite only knowing her a for such short a time he felt a great attachment to her that felt like it ended too soon. LaCroix did refer to Noct as a ‘child’ so maybe most of these relationships were close in such a way. Although it was probably just a generally intimate relationship, or so the prince hoped, because otherwise it was going to be very weird keeping in mind that he had slept with her the only day he knew her. 

The cheery demon had also briefly mentioned that within The Masquerade there were other organisations, one of them being the Camarilla, currently headed by ‘Prince’ Sebastian LaCroix, and the one Noct was technically apart of. Also referred to Noct’s clan, though the strange hobo looking man said nothing of note. Asides from how apparently fucked Noctis was to be Malkavian.

Noctis didn’t feel particularly screwed over in any sense, or at least, at first it didn’t seem that way. And then he failed to access his Armiger. Then he realised that he was just fucked in general.

He still didn’t have an explanation or excuse figured out in his head by the time the car was parked in the citadel parking structure and Gladio was leading him through the halls, presumably to whatever room his father was occupying. 

There was also the issue of the prince’s apparent resistance or possible immunity to the sun’s light. It was strange and a little concerning, since Noct felt it instinctively that he should not be alive let alone standing and seemingly unaffected by the rays. Every fiber of his being practically screeched at him to run when Ignis had pulled back those curtains, and even now he could feel his the beast inside flinching and trying to away from the stray beams that shone through the windows. The anxiety that this was temporary, and that at any moment he could burst into flame and dissolve to ash because he was foolish enough to still be standing in the light was so tangible to the prince, it surprised him that no one seemed to notice. Still, it was an issue he would have to think on later, and be grateful it was working at all, otherwise they would have lost him twice in the span of a single weekend

The voices were much more muted here, to the point of almost being silent, Noct wondered if it had anything to do with the crystal hidden deep within the building. If he concentrated hard enough he could make out a word or two  
he̮̭̭r̦̜̙͜ ̜h͔͉͍͟e̥̫̙̯̦̱͢a̡̺͎͍ṟ̤̦̜t̡͍̰͈͍̬͙̰ ̧̜̯l̳̝i̼̠̮͙̟e̞͇s ͖̭̝͕̮͍̳h̴̺̤͙e̫̕r͈͠e͖̳̕

, he didn’t though, in favor of staying near his shield. Not that it was possible to lose the largest man he’d ever met but he didn’t know what room he was supposed to greet his father in and wasn’t in the mood to decipher the cryptic words of his mind.

The door they did finally stop in front of was what Noctis recognized as a more family oriented meeting room. It was decorated like a study, but was only ever used for the reigning monarch to confront their children on any important family issues. The prince had probably been brought here a total of three times, including this visit. Gladio went ahead opened the door for Noct, who took a moment to compose himself before entering. 

The moment he laid eyes on his father, the voices went completely silent. It was… not quite painful, but definitely unpleasant to go from gentle background buzzing to dead quiet. Noctis hoped the discomfort didn’t show on his face.

His shield closed the door behind him, as Noct further entered the room. He opted to sit a little ways off from the center of the room, opposite from their respective shields to keep his father eyes solely on him.

“Noctis,” the king began, his tone as gentle as it always was with the prince, “are you truly alright?”

He tilted his head and crossed his arms, pretending to be in thought, before nodding his head. 

His father frowned a little at that, as did his shield, Clarus. Luckily his own shield read the cue and intervened, sparing Noct the undertaking of managing his new speech for the uninitiated.

“With all due respect,” Gladio started, very much not ignoring the glare his own father was giving him, “I spoke to Noct earlier and, from what I understand, his disappearance had something to do with the passing of a friend.”

The air in the room changed so very suddenly when Gladio finished saying his piece that Noctis visibly flinched.

It also didn’t help that everyone’s gaze refocused onto him, now with looks a mix of shock, pre-pity, and a need for confirmation. “Noctis, is this true?” Clarus asked. Oh how delightful, now he has to speak.

“The ashes of her corpse are now carried by the wind.” Well that definitely didn’t sound weird and creepy.

And the others seem to agree with his sentiments, if the concerned mixed with confused looks on their faces was any indication. Noctis bit his lip and looked downward, he was going to have to take advantage of their pity and hopefully try to use it lessen their concerns. The last thing he needed was for them to be on his case about trauma or anything and sending him therapists or help, he had shit to do that required odd hours to do them in. Cause you know, vampires and all that.

His father was the more obviously worried one, and the one who spoke up first, “Noctis, what happened, you know you can tell me right? I won’t be upset, I know we didn’t leave each other on entirely good terms the last we spoke, but I should hope that we can move past this and make amends.”

Their argument was actually the least of his worries, cold as that sounded. Noctis would actually have found their anger preferable to their concern, it was just making him feel like a ungrateful piece of shit to lie to them. 

But the Camarilla, LaCroix in particular, could be a force to be reckoned with when crossed. Noctis had bore witness to some of the punishments that come with breaking their laws, what they were capable of, and had no intention of subjecting himself or his friends and family to such fates. As he is now, he couldn’t afford to piss off one of the more influential Kindred in the community, Noct could recognize he was being given an miraculous amount of flexibility for someone in his position. As LaCroix liked to remind him, sire-less fledgelings like him were usually killed, and that Noctis was kept alive because it was convenient for upholding The Masquerade.

An awful place to be, at the mercy of the merciless.

Noctis shook his head, giving a soft smile in hopes of trying to ease his father’s concern, “It’s fine. I'm fine, like the print no one reads.”

The king ducked his head to hide his smile, but Noct could spot it anyways. Their shields seemed none the wiser to the inappropriate smile. When his father met the prince’s gaze his expression seemed just a tad less troubled, he still wanted answers but was willing to let things lie for now. Or at least that's how it felt to Noctis.

“I suppose,” his father lifted his head with a sigh, “when you are ready to speak of the matter, know that we are here for you. That I am here.” Noctis nodded with a smile he hoped came across as apologetic.

And so, the king dismissed them.


	2. There's something in way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think it's called my moral compass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reformatted the story, the first five chapters are now combined into one but nothing else has changed.

Ignis felt like a coward. Or more accurately, what he was doing felt cowardly.

He didn't want to call it hiding, didn't want to admit he was avoiding, didn’t want to deal with the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions threatening to tear him apart at the seems. Couldn’t get the image of the Noct’s dark expression out of his head, or the keep the unsettling words from replaying in his mind. Couldn’t comprehend what happened but still trying to understand.

An odd sense of uselessness settled somewhere deep inside him, as he was updated on his charges well-being through Gladio’s text messages, as he laid under the covers his bed despite it being around two in the afternoon, as he replies with one word texts to the shield, as he tries not to think too hard and focus on falling asleep. It’s been a stressful day, some sleep would do him good, he’ll get back to thinking about this issue tomorrow, with a clearer head.

《◇》

Ignis hadn’t properly spoken to Gladio since their argument before Noctis disappeared. It wasn’t much of a big deal, the shield could barely recall what it was about, and at the time wasn’t his biggest concern. Now he was rethinking those sentiments, as Iggy’s text responses were weirdly short. He couldn’t recall a time the advisor ever responded to anything with just an “Ok” before, in either text or in person.

That guy was way too formal to answer anything in the same apathetic way Noctis usually did, or used to, considering his new condition. It was concerning, and he was going to have to confront Ignis some time soon, about their issue and whatever happened between Ignis and the prince. 

It had dawned on Gladio, as Noct drove back to his apartment, that he had pretty much adopted Iggy’s duties at the moment. It was a strange realization that left a strange feeling settle somewhere deep inside him, one he couldn’t quite name.

No matter, he’d deal with it later, he had a prince to look after at the moment.

《◇》

Sunday - Late Evening

Something Noct learned during his time with that Happy Demon, was that he could… influence the minds of humans, or Kine as the Kindred liked to think themselves above what they once were. A useful skill to have, when dealing with less than savory people, that was just shy of full on mind control. He could introduce them to the voices he heard, could show them neat little things that weren’t actually there, or even have them do or say things they normally wouldn’t.

Noctis had always known he was capable of killing a man in more ways than the average person was capable of. Before that night, however, he’d never actually killed anyone, and he never imagined he’d do it through the power of suggestion.

It gnawed at him as he sat in the living room of his apartment, Gladio sat adjacent to him on the couch, feet resting atop the coffee table casually flipping through the channels on the TV, struggling to fight off sleep while his charge remained wide awake. Noctis himself had a laptop sitting with him, going through a new collection of messages from a new email created specifically for keeping vampiric business out of his personal one. LaCroix and Jack had both sent him messages wishing him luck or reiterating orders in LaCroix’s case, as well as a an agent of LaCroix’s by name of Mercurio, some spam, and a strange message with no sender warning him about something.

The job of the night: to meet up with Mercurio at his apartment. Nothing too difficult or complicated, if not for the fact that his shield was currently taking his sweet time to succumb to the sleep his spiked tea was trying so very hard to lull him into. 

O̡n͜e s̴in aftȩr a͘no̕t̢h̛e̕r, t͏h̢e͝ ̛lis͠t ha̡s ̕gro̷w͞n̡ s̴o̢ l͏o̴ng̸ i̧n ̷so̴ ͡short a t͞im̸ę.

Noctis couldn’t help but agree, but he’d rather ask for forgiveness from his from his friends when he could ensure their safety, than from their gravestones.

A clack from a fallen remote signaled the start of his escape, the dosage used should knock Gladio out for well into the early morning so Noct had a couple hours to get this done and be back in time to avoid getting caught. With quick and careful movements, he turned off the laptop and TV, placed a blanket atop his shield, and exited his apartment. 

Can’t risk using his own car, someone could notice the gas being used up, best to use the Metro. Pulling down the hood of his jacket over his face Noct couldn’t help but be grateful to his father’s insistence that his face remain out of the media, it made getting around places a lot easier. Mercurio, from the prince’s understanding, was what the Kindred community referred to as a ‘ghoul’, a living human who feeds on vampire’s blood. It keeps them young, makes them stronger though not as strong as a vampire, and can help them heal from wounds faster, though again, not as fast as a vampire.

According to the directions given to Noct in the email, Mercurio lived in on the border of where the inner city began, room 4 in an apartment building on 24 Main Street. The trip there was uneventful, he was seen but unnoticed, good.

Walking through the street started out just as equally uneventful, until he saw a man bleeding out on the steps crawl his way inside. A quick check of the building revealed that, yes, this place is where Mercurio lives. Noctis sighed, subsequently inhaling more of the blood’s scent and stirring the beast within. He’ll have to take this time to go out and find a drink, but first-

He marched up the steps, past all the blood outside, and opened the door to find a convenient blood trail leading him to room 4. Wonderful, the prince hoped to whoever was listening that he would not get jumped by a bunch of thugs sent by LaCoix because of course his luck would do this to him.

Mercifully, or perhaps suspiciously, the only body in the room was the one bleeding profusely all over the couch, groaning in pain as his body no doubt struggled to heal whatever beating he took, bruises and cuts littered his body each one larger and more painful to look at. He sluggishly lifted his head as he heard the door open, “You,” he began, his voice hoarse from coughing, “you the new kid? The one LaCroix sent?”

He nodded, “And you must be the fleet-footed god, Mercury, right?” he would of course ask.

“Wha- ah shit. You’re Malkavian. Great, just fucking great.” He started to laugh but ended up groaning some more in pain, “Just what I needed, I’m bleeding out all over the carpet and can’t understand a single thing you’re saying.”

Noctis held back a flinch at that. Not that it was wrong or that he disagreed but it still wasn’t nice to hear.

“An- wha?” Mercurio glanced down at himself, “Is this- is this my rib?! Ah, fuck it’s trying to poke outta my skin. Shit, this hurts. Alright look, listen kid, I dunno how much those guys told you about me, but I’m a supplier- urgh,” he looked close to vomiting, and took a moment to compose himself, “Hah, okay, where as I? Right, I’m a supplier, usually got access to all kinds of things, but right now, I need you to go and get me something for the pain.”

“You seek ‘numbness’? Do you have a cabinet of which I may procure your ‘numbness’?” Thank whatever astral who took pity on his predicament, to at least set him up with someone who can make better sense of his words than most who roamed the daytime hours.

“Nah, ain’t got anything in here, you’re gonna have to go out and find it.

“Listen, there’s a clinic, down the street, gotta a big ol’ sign, can’t miss it, and, fuck I dunno. Buy it, steal it, do whatever it is you people do.”

The prince blinked, letting the words sink in.

“Did they tell you my name?”

“Yeah, LaCroix told me, I know I just asked the Prince of this country to steal drugs from a local clinic.” He managed to look smug despite the cuts and swelling on his face, “I also know I can get you can you just about anything you need, guns, explosives, you name it. But only if you help get me those pills, and keep your mouth shut about all this, we got ourselves a deal?”

Noctis returned the grin, “Stray far from Death’s embrace, Mercury. Bye bye.”

《◇》

Breaking into the clinic was much easier than Noct anticipated. Admittedly the clinic was very busy, for whatever reason that was, so all he had to do was say he knew someone and the poor overworked nurse believed him. It was kinda sad, but he didn’t have the time to help so off he wandered around the suspiciously empty hallways.

It took a bit of less than legal maneuvering but he found the morphine, or ‘numbness’ as his stupid mouth called it, in the head doctor’s office for whatever reason it was there for.

After he pocketed the pills, Noctis left as quickly as he came. Mercurio was grateful, and honest to gods’ gave him a working revolver with extra ammo as a ‘tip’, he called it.

It wouldn't be the last time he had to break into places to either steal or destroy someone else's property. That gun came in pretty handy in some of the messier confrontations. LaCroix had it set so that Noctis was a bit stuck playing errand boy for a while.

For a while being about two months of scheming and lying between Gladio’s pitying looks, Ignis’s suspicious ones, and Prompto’s worried texts about when he was coming back to school, he was summoned to LaCroix’s office, who looked for all the world like he wanted to pull someone's teeth out one by one, and Noctis trying very hard to become very small. He could never get used to the overwhelming air of authority older Kindred could exude, though he had yet to meet one who wielded it like the one before him. Noct could feel the beast itching to flee the building, but walking out on the ‘Prince’ before he was dismissed felt too much like signing a death sentence. Or becoming the one LaCroix pulled teeth out of. Either way, it was a no go on running.

As it turned out, an agent LaCroix had sent out to destroy a Sabbat stronghold had failed to report in the past four days and was presumed dead. The Sabbat were an unpleasant organization bent on proudly displaying their vampirism to the world and serial cannibals feasting on their peers, or diablerists, as Kindred called it. They had become bold as of late, hoping to establish a strong foothold within Insomnia. The reason they hadn’t yet primarily being, of course, Camarilla interference. Though a rival group called the Anarchs were an equally lethal force to account for. However, with their ever dwindling numbers made what they accounted for a minor contribution, preferring to, wisely in his opinion, let the better resourced Camarilla deal with the brunt of the Sabbat assault.

With that said, LaCroix was running short of expendable Kindred to use, which is how Noctis found himself breaking into a private warehouse pumping shotgun shells into various bodies, and occasionally draining them dry if the opportunity presented itself. Taking full advantage of the situation to exercise and practice his Kindred abilities, sneaking around invisible to the mortal eye and peeking into auras. 

It was a whole lot more fun than he thought it would be. Cutting it close as he left the blast radius of the bomb he planted, Noct had finally reached a safe impasse when an honest to Gods’ wolf ran up before him and fucking transformed into a human.

Well, human-esque more like, humans don't possess glowing eyes or nails that long and sharp. 

The man held a steady gaze on Noctis and spoke, “The warehouse… you're handiwork, I presume?”

His voice was, soft, softer than the prince was used to hearing from a vampire. Though maybe his temperamental boss wasn't that good of a comparison to use. At any rate, the Kindred’s gaze and tone felt empty of any malicious intent, just an air of confidence bordering on arrogance.

“Are you the big bad wolf?” the prince asked.

He let a silence linger, staring more intently at him. “I see,” he began, “my reputation, for once, does not precede me. My name is Beckett. I haven't been following you, though, I'm certain it was a coincidence that we were both at the pier that day. Very sorry if I unnerved you.

“Tell me,” he continued, “have you seen or felt anything strange since your Embrace?”

There was a lot he could say to that question, none of them were likely the answer this man wanted. Although, there was something about Beckett himself, something that was trying to find a light switch in a dark room full of Lego pieces.

The voices weren't especially muted like they usually were in the Citadel, but there was a calmness to how they spoke. One of them was reaching out to Beckett-

“Don't open the box. You won't find your answers there, so don't try to open it.”

And whatever the older Kindred was expecting, it most definitely didn't seem to be that, as he had the most human expression of shock Noct had yet seen on a vampire. It was a minute expression he quickly recovered from but it was there all the same and the prince had caught it. 

“...Do you, perchance, mean the Ancharon Sarcophagus?” Beckett asked, peering at him with such open curiosity that it made Noctis want to squirm, “I'll confess that it is the reason I'm here, not with the thought of it being an answer to any question.”

“So you won't open it.” Noct said more than asked, a faint relief in his tone.

“Oh, I intend to open it,” his arrogance now bleeding into his confidence.

There was a sense of irritation within the young Kindred that he traced back to the voice that had reached out to Beckett earlier.

“For you see,” continued Beckett, “most of my contacts here report sensing something unusual in the night air, like a sense of dread…” he tilts his head, a thoughtful expression decorating his face, “It's this along with the strange entrance of the sarcophagus that has come to have started talk and rumors about Gehenna. As I'm not a native here, I can't tell if it's irregular, and as you're still fresh, you probably not attuned to it yet.

“Thus, my intentions are as follows: to open the sarcophagus and dispel the notion that Gehenna is upon us. Quite simple really,” he says with an absent minded wave of his hand. “Anything else you wish to say?”

There was something that Noctis wanted to know,actually. “I'm not familiar with the word, ‘Gehenna’.”

That got a short laugh out of Beckett, it felt genuine to his ears. “Lucky you, then, to have run into someone like myself. The short of it being that Gehenna is the end of times, the… apocalypse, if you will. Is that all you wish to know?”

Noctis took a minute to think about that. Then, he smirked and said, “You're… very kind."

The other Kindred scoffed at that, “Me? Kind? Perish the thought and mention it to no one or I'll tear out your tongue.”

The threat did nothing to deter Noct’s smile, in fact it only grew wider in response to it. “I cross my heart, and hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye.”

“I'll hold you to that.” he responded, with an amused expression. “At any rate, you best get going and report to LaCroix, I'm sure he's eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

“Will our paths cross again?” There was a note of hope in the prince’s tone of voice.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Life is full of little mysteries like that.”

“I want meet you again.”

“With that mentality, perhaps you'll survive long enough to do just that.”


	3. I'm in the details with the devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We knock back holy water like it's cheap whiskey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th of July ya'll.
> 
> I've been procrastinating this chapter for a while since the format fucked itself up and I didn't want to go in and manually edit a thousand things but it's finally done now, so hurray.

_New Messages from: Prompto Argentum_

_Uread: 2 months ago_

**PA:** hey noct

 **PA:** how r u?

 **PA:** i heard someone u knew passed on

 **PA:** and thats why u havent come back to school yet

 **PA:** and if u need to talk…

 **PA:** tho maybe ure already talking to ignis and im jus blowing up ur phone  
_(Edited)_

 **PA:** srry bout that btw

 **PA:** im jus really worried u know?

 **PA:** lemme know when ure coming back to school

 **PA:** i wanna talk to u

 **PA:** and see for myself that ure ok

 **PA:** pls text me back

_Read: 13 minutes ago_

**NLC:** Srry its taken me so long to respond

 **NLC:** I actually lost my phone this whole time, not sure anyone told u

 **NLC:** Really appreciate u willing to listen to my problems

 **NLC:** Specs has been a little annoying so I might take u up on that

 **NLC:** And don’t worry about blowing up my phone

 **NLC:** Ure the only one who texts me that I look forward too

 **NLC:** Dunno when I’ll be back at school everything’s really weird at the citadel

 **NLC:** I’ve been pretty weird myself

 **NLC:** But I’m fine, Gladio won’t let me outta his sight so I’m pretty safe

 **NLC:** Alright gtg, but I’ll talk later ok?

_Read: 6 minutes ago_

_Unread: 3 minutes ago_

**PA:** dude im so glad ure okay  
_(Edited)_

 **PA:** ill always be here for ya 

《◇》

Wednesday- early evening 

Word of Noct’s ability to withstand sunlight had gotten around, as poorly hidden secrets usually do, and he had been subject to quite an array of questions and discussions. From the speculation of it being due to his heritage as a Caelum, to whispers of it being a new discipline for Malkavians, to straight up being referred to as a sign for the beginnings of Gehenna. Although that last one Noctis was accused of was by an especially deranged member of his own clan, so he's not entirely sure it counts.

With all of that said, there has so far been one formal request for a meeting that Noctis has received. A riddle in disguise as a letter, by a Maximillian Strauss, the Primogen of Clan Tremere. Tremeres are an secretive bunch of mage vampires, whose magical abilities is said to rival that of the Lucian family.

And to think, Noctis received a personal invitation from the representing Tremere leader. At least tonight he had something to do, and wouldn't have to suffer from boredom. The riddle was a fairly easy, pretty straightforward, and poetically described set of directions.

The residence of Clan Tremere was situated much closer to the Capital than the prince was comfortable with, but whatever, at least it wouldn't be a long trip. The place itself had a strong resemblance to traditional Lucian churches, Strauss had called it a Chantry so perhaps all the similarities were done purposefully. 

Noctis had no trouble getting in, as no one was stationed outside to deter him, or even inside. In fact, the place itself seemed vacant of any Kindred presence. If it hadn't been for the very specific directions that brought him here, the prince might have thought he entered the wrong building. 

He wandered around for a bit, listening intently for any signs of life, and only got the soft creaking of the building. It really did seem empty. Eventually he came to a wide set of dark wood doors, with ornately carved details, and knew he'd find Strauss behind them. Mostly because he hadn't discovered any other doors on his meanderings throughout the place, and because of the twinkling little firefly lights floating around it. This was obviously the place.

He was about to knock when there was a quiet click, and the doors opened themselves. The room was fairly dark, in comparison to the rest of the place, it's only light source coming from the lit fireplace. It looked to be some kind of foyer. 

Standing a little ways off to the left of the fireplace, stood a Kindred, who beckoned Noct in. “Greetings neonate, I'm pleased to see you have accepted my invitation.”

His voice was soft, but unlike Beckett's, it commanded a far greater authority, it added something almost regal to his presence. So this was Maximillian Strauss.

Slowly, but intently, Noctis approached the ancient being, as he continued. “How fascinating, that of all the 13 clans, the child prince of this city should succumb to the Clan of the Moon.”

“I don't know that name.” said prince responds with a frown, stopping just out of arm's reach.

“‘Clan of the Moon’, also known as Clan Malkavian.” the elder answers, his expression changing minutely to one Noctis recognized as pity. “Such a tragedy, to be without a Sire to teach you. So quickly were you snatched up by LaCroix, who cares so little for your being.”

Noctis peered curiously at Strauss, wondering at his motives, letting the voices pull at his thoughts. “You are the King with the Iron Crown, why would you seek me out?”

“You are in possession of a unique and powerful set of abilities, and in a position of great danger, both to the Masquerade and to yourself.” Strauss, Noctis couldn't help but take note, was being very forthcoming, not friendly, but still very forthcoming. “It would be a waste of an opportunity to not use it to learn more about your specific condition.”

The prince shifted, eyes narrowed and eyeing the elder warily.

He seemed to understand, as he followed up with, “Of course, I would not perform any invasive procedures without your consent, if you are amenable to only an interview, such would suffice.”

Whether or not Strauss was being sincere, Noctis couldn't tell, as he didn't posses much in the way of facial cues. It seemed to be a trend among older Kindred to have less and less mannerisms, the only reason most remember to even breathe was because they still had a use for words. The technicalities of being undead were weird.

Noct took a few moments to think over Strauss’s proposal. “You may mine my gray matter, so long as I may mine yours.”

An air of amusement came from the elder, who actually smiled at Noctis’s response, “An exchange of information, very well, if it is within my ability to give, it is yours.”

Noctis smiled in turn.

《◇》

Wednesday - late evening 

_[Recording begins]_

**Strauss:** If I may begin, tell me of your experience as a Kindred so far.

 **Caelum:** It's like, looking at the world through a cracked, distorted glass window. Wherein the truth can only be seen by peering through the cracks, but truth is like light, and staring for too long can blind you.

 **Strauss:** Ah, yes, the Malkavians sense of foresight. Seen as a gift by some, and a curse by others.

 **Caelum:** Divination is not inherently good or bad, the results are just clouded by our bias.

 **Strauss:** Is that what you believe?

 **Caelum:** No. Maybe? The voices are scattered.

 **Strauss:** What do these, voices, say about the sunlight you have walked in?

 **Caelum:** Run, get _away!_ You'll burn! Burn! _Run!!_

 **Strauss:** So you still fear immolation? Fascinating. Though now I must know, with you running about as LaCroix's errand boy and tending to your duties as Crown Prince of this country, when is it you sleep?

 **Caelum:** Day or night, I'm always tired, but never enough to fall asleep. I've tried lots of things, but melatonin makes me sad, weed does nothing, and morphine tempts me into torpor.

 **Strauss:** You should know that drugs do not affect our kind, unless it is in the blood we drink.

 **Caelum:** My advisor knows something's going wrong with him, but otherwise none the wiser.

 **Strauss:** I see. I'm certain you are well aware, but do remember to take precautions where you can, as you can never be to careful when it comes to the Masquerade.

 **Caelum:** And as I just said, otherwise none the wiser.

_[There is a short silence here]_

**Strauss:** Very well, then, there have been sightings of your comings and goings to the Citadel, how has it felt to be so close to Crystal and it's magic?

**Caelum:** Everything becomes, muted. 

Strauss: How so?

**Caelum:** The voices are calmer, almost quiet, and colors look washed out. Edges feel dull, straight lines curve, people are seen but aren't noticed. My eyes feel hooded.

 **Strauss:** I see.

**Caelum:** Is it supposed to be like that? 

**Strauss:** I have never approached any closer to the Citadel than where I am now, nor have I encountered any Kindred who have, so I'm afraid I don't know. Perhaps it is an effect of the Crystal reaching out to you? Your family does have a long standing history with it. 

**Caelum:** It is the heart of my family's covenant to the Gods. So long as we remain true to our promise, we are blessed with their gift of magic. 

**Strauss:** Are you still in possession of this ‘gift’? 

**Caelum:** The damned have no right to the blessings of the Gods. Such is part of the Kindreds’ curse. 

_[There is a long silence here]_

**Caelum:** The night’s ending, I should go home. 

**Strauss:** As you wish, until the next time we meet, safe travels. 

_[Recording ends]_

**《◇》**

Noct couldn't recall ever having such lucidity in his dreams. Not since he met Carbuncle, has he ever had such clarity and awareness of detail in them. 

Maybe it was because of the presence of his sire, Alice. They were both in the same place as last time. Nude and laying in bed. 

He wasn't holding her this time, she lay in her respective side of the bed. The bed, he was now noticing, looked neither like his or Alice’s. The rich cherry wood did not match his sleek black wood or her rusted metal frame. The sheets were a soft cream, not grey or navy blue. 

The rest of the room was roughly the same, cream colored walls and cherry wood furniture. The dim early morning lighting from the window, beyond it a grey colored ocean reflecting lighter grey clouds, inspiring a sense of slowed, perhaps even static, time. 

Noctis rose from the bed, getting ready to leave it, and noticed his clothes on the floor. A white dress shirt and black slacks, not his casual get up. He slipped into them anyways. 

The house, he discovered, wasn't very big but certainly gave the illusion of it. Narrow corridors lead to large open rooms with multiple doors, ladders leading to indoor balconies and more doors. It was decorated similarly to the room. Walls adorned with generic artworks, bookshelves stocked with blank books, designless vases without flowers, it was surprising, then, to find the fridge stocked with blood packs labeled with various food and drink names. 

Just as he was reaching for one of them, there was a clinking noise from behind him. Turning around revealed Alice, cradling a cup of what smelled like coffee to Noctis, and dressed in a white with lace nightgown. 

She smiled at him, gesturing at the fridge. Help yourself, it meant. 

So Noct helped himself to a cup of ‘ginseng and honey tea’. It was delicious, but made something deep inside him ache. Neither of them said anything, not daring to break the meditative silence, but the prince felt his sire knew how he felt. 

How it almost felt like, homesickness. 

Noctis stayed standing in the kitchen, nursing a cup of uniquely flavored blood with Alice, as they watched the water from the ocean outside fill this empty house, absently wondering if they'd drown, as it turned to black, and rise over them. 

《◇》 

Som͜e͞t͏ime͏s < / ̧ ̛Bef͢ore it ̡ge͜ts͠ b͘e͜t̷ter 

Th͝ę d͡ark̡n̵es҉s ͡ge̕ts͏ ̴bi҉gg͏e͢r̕  
͢ /> Thȩ ̛per̶so̡n͠ th̴a̷t you͢'d҉ ͢t̡a̢k̷e̢ a bu͠llet͟ ̨for͟ ͟ 

Is̵ be͟hin̴d ͞the͢ trigge͞r 

《◇》 

Thursday - early morning 

It was getting harder and harder for Ignis to get up each morning, and no amount of coffee was helping. A struggle not made easier with his temperamental charge, whom the advisor found this morning curled up on the floor of his bedroom. 

Just as he finished approaching, the prince spoke, “Kick me and I'll beat you with your own leg.” 

Ignis sighed, resisting the urge to slouch, “You have a meeting to attend to at the Citadel today, please be ready in an hour.” 

It was like this a lot more these days, Noct's cold demeanor and Ignis’s resigned professionalism. At least he listened more aptly to his advisor, but this growing distance between them hurt Ignis something fierce. 

Exactly an hour later the prince appeared, ready to go and already heading to the door. Ignis lingered behind a bit, in an apartment that barely felt lived in these days, and nearly lost himself to his thoughts, were it not for Noct calling out to him. 

The drive there was just as detached, twice had the advisor tried to start conversation and twice had the prince shut him down. It left Ignis feeling uncomfortably idle in the silence, nothing but his thoughts to distract him as it was Noctis who was driving. 

Is this, was this Noct trying to tell him something? He'd already apologized for the his thoughtlessness from two months ago, for how much longer will his charge keep up this passive aggression? 

Could Ignis even call it aggression? It was possible that Ignis was imagining much of it, but he couldn't recall such a time Noctis was this cold, not since the daemon attack.. 

He turned to face Noct, who kept his gaze straight ahead on the road. He was as pale as from when he returned from his weekend long disappearance, overall Noct looked very gaunt. His eyes have become a duller shade blue, started wearing gloves and refuses to ever take them off, last Ignis saw the prince's hands the nails were painted black but that felt like such a silly reason to insist on gloves. 

Even more worrisome was Noct’s unique way of speaking. He seemed to struggle with his words these days, Ignis had noticed the signs of frustration, perhaps he had suffered a head injury? But no, besides his speech and coldness towards the advisor, Noctis remains otherwise the same. 

He resisted the urge sigh, all this information he’s collected and and yet Ignis still couldn't come to any sort of conclusion over what could be wrong with his charge or how to help. Never had he ever felt so… useless. It was irritating, wholly frustrating. 

Gladio had spoke to him, well screamed was more like, about a habit of his, this was one of the points brought up in their recent argument. According to the shield, Ignis had an issue of internalizing his problems, specifically the ones in regards to the prince. Ignis had acknowledged this and was trying to change that, but it was made all the more difficult with Noctis refusing to talk to him. 

The near silence was suffocating and doing murder on his self-esteem. He just wanted to help Noctis, to be useful to his friend. This idleness was going to be end of him. 

《◇》 

Ignis called it a meeting, to Noctis it was more a family gathering. In the smaller council rooms, surrounding the round table, gathered his shield Gladio, his father's shield Clarus, Noct's father Regis, and Cor. The prince approached the table, Ignis at his right side, bowing his head in acknowledge towards his father. 

The king returned the gesture with a warm smile, and spoke, “Thank you for helping escort my son, Ignis, and on time as well.” 

“It was no issue, your majesty, Noctis was already wide awake when I arrived.” His advisor responded, as he pushed up his glasses. 

His father raised an eyebrow at that, before turning to Noct, a wry grin on his face, “Is that so? Have your etiquette lessons on punctuality finally stuck?” 

“No, I just stop being tired at 5:37 in the morning and in the evening.” Strange for his father to bring that up, Noct hadn't taken etiquette lessons for several years. 

“Ah, well,” his father attempted to begin again, “I'm certain you must have several ideas as to why you're here-" 

“Your majesty,” Cor, bold as always, interrupted, “if I may, we've waited far too long to tell him this.” 

No emotion betrayed the king's face, but Noct could still sense an underlying reluctant resignation, but gave the Marshall a nod. 

“Noctis, roughly a month and a half ago the Empire of Niflheim contacted us, they seek to hold another peace talk in Altissia. The decision to allow you such a lengthy leave from school was made to give you time to both grieve and prepare for the trip to Altissa.” Short and succinct, such is the trademark of the Marshall. But his hardened eyes and the sword at his hip felt like they were trying to tell Noctis something. 

“I don't normally get to ride the boats.” Was Noct's response, the eyes and sword would have to wait to tell him their secrets later. 

There was a pause, no doubt deciphering the words meaning, then a subtle nod from Cor, “Under ideal circumstances, I would not have agreed to let you venture pass the walls, but such is your, ‘unique’, situation, his majesty has thought it best to keep you close by.” 

There were quite a number of issues that Cor was letting go unsaid, the first and foremost being that Noct’s father wasn’t leaving anyone with a chance to change his mind about this decision. The second being that there were people, namely Cor, vehemently against the king’s decision. The third being this sudden show of protectiveness from his father, not to say Noctis ever doubted Regis’s love for him, it was just simply strange for him to make this sort of decision without first confronting the prince on the matter. 

Strange, almost suspicious, if not for the fact that Noctis knows for a fact that they are human, and thus their intentions far more true than most kindred. 

“Cor,” the king began, “We will be taking every necessary precaution possible, you were even allowed to oversee and provide an input on the plan-” 

“Wait, is the Marshal not going with us?” Noctis asked. 

“He will, he’s just being overly cautious,” replied Clarus, the first line he's said since the meeting started. 

“Such seriousness, the Marshal should relax, it’s not like anyone gets out of life alive.” 

Where most Kindred would find some amusement, these humans had very apparent concern. That, in it of itself, Noct had to admit was pretty amusing, though now he should probably tone it down before they try to meddle even further into his affairs. The prince very much valued his privacy these days. 

“So, when do we depart?” asked Noctis, letting his tone slip back to professional. 

Cor studied him, as did everyone else present at the table, for a short moment. “You have three days to pack. I will have the crownsguard come pick you up on the fourth day. We leave on the fifth.” 

Noctis resisted the urge to frown. Going by the reactions of the humans before him, sneaking out wasn’t going to be possible anymore. He wondered how well LaCroix was going to take this, he’d probably just give the prince a few names of people he should meet. 

If not that then there wouldn’t be much else since Noct was going to be heavily guarded and subsequently very heavily watched. 

The whole thing was starting to feel like a vacation of sorts, if not for the fact that a rival nation, that had been trying to invade Lucian lands for what has felt like eons, would be playing at trying to talk peace. 

This was either going to be a boring waste of time or become the highlight of his political life. 

**Author's Note:**

> Here's to starting another multi chapter fic, and praying that this time I actually finish it.


End file.
